Misguided Wolves

37. A Mother's Betrayal

Banished from Logi, Margaret rode toward Vargr, her heart cold but calculating. If Mark wouldn’t protect her, she’d seek power elsewhere. Vargr, the nearest refuge, offered a chance to reclaim her status. Weakened by her broken bond, she was grateful Mark had provided a horse, its steady gait easing her journey through the frostbitten wilds.

At Vargr’s border, guards bristled. A burly lookout’s voice boomed, “Stop! State your business!”

Margaret raised her hands, feigning frailty. “Please, don’t hurt me! I’m a lone woman, cast out by my cruel husband into this perilous world. A weak soul seeking sanctuary—have mercy!”

The older guard’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed by her damsel act, his weathered face suggesting he’d seen such ploys before. But a younger guard softened, glancing at his commander. “Sir, look at her—she won’t survive the rogues!”

The older guard sighed, relenting to avoid seeming heartless. “Fine. Let her through.”

Escorted to a sparse, windowless room, Margaret waited, her mind racing. Sol’s delay in rejecting her outright gave her hope. After what felt like an eternity, Sol entered, relaxed but stern, sitting across from her.

“My guards say you’ve had an… interesting day,” he said, eyes hard. “Why Vargr?”

Margaret pulled her collar aside, revealing bare skin where her mate mark once sat—an ugly reminder of her stripped title. “I’m no longer tied to Fror. All bonds are severed. I seek pity and a place in your pack. I’ll do anything to help.”

Sol’s scowl deepened. “Your daughter’s nothing but trouble. She turned Mahni against me, made enemies of my son and nephew. You think I’ll let you waltz in just because your husband cast you out? Move on.”

“I understand,” Margaret said, voice venomous. “Kate’s been a thorn in my side since birth. My womb’s cursed, birthing heathens like her and Jackson.”

Sol rolled his eyes, bored. “Don’t have more pups with your next mate. What’s your point?”

Margaret sneered, leaning forward. “Let me help remove my children from this world. I brought them here—I should end them. Something I should’ve done long ago.”

Sol pinched his nose, exasperated. “I won’t house another of your kind, but I’ll offer aid. My son and daughter-in-law are heading to Vintr. You can join their escort. Stay in a room until then—don’t step foot outside. Clear?”

Margaret brightened, masking her scheming. “Yes! Thank you for your generosity!”

Sol huffed, annoyed, and left, torn between her potential use and the risk of another betrayal. Margaret’s mind churned. If she proved valuable to Vintr, Charles would shower her with riches, preserving her lavish life. No more pretending to be a loving mother or wife—she’d soon be free.